


Must be the tea

by sadaakirah



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, I wrote about body fluids again, Levi Ackerman is in Denial, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Wingman Armin Arlert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29898999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadaakirah/pseuds/sadaakirah
Summary: Mikasa finds herself confused about the growing feelings she has concerning a certain Captain Levi, feelings she cannot name. Upon Armin's suggestion, she relents on extending an olive branch. Unbeknownst to them, the Captain is in the same boat as her, and that branch only serves to stoke the flames of an unresolved tension further.
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Mikasa Ackerman, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert
Comments: 18
Kudos: 75





	Must be the tea

_I_

Levi had not changed, and yet he had.

With every turn of the season, with each notch cadets would carve into the barrack walls to chronicle their growing selves, with every sleeve that would become tighter and shorter around Mikasa's arms, with every romance novel Armin would read out to Mikasa when she had the quiet and the time to ponder over the prose that spoke of yearning ーLevi had changed, and yet he had not. 

_II_

The forest is uncharted, and yet embodies all the familiarity of a childhood that had been nipped in the bud.

Mikasa should feel more at home among the smell of pine-trees, and bushes of jasmines and the medley of trichromatic leaves at her feet than the brick-laden fort they would have to return to.

But there is an unease in her. From across the riverbank, Mikasa brazenly watches one man who was out of place with the solitude of the woodlands and thrumming of the cicadas.

Captain Levi's blood-stained uniform had been wrung thoroughly in his hands.

He was all compact muscle and sinew, yet Mikasa thinks she has intruded on him at his most vulnerable moment. Gone was his OMDG gear. In their stead, the permanent indentations of leather straps serpentined his arms and a battery of scars littered his backー scars too deliberate, with edges too well-apposed to be the doing of mindless titans. The wet and corded muscles beneath his skin rippled and gleamed when they caught the forest-filtered sunlight, and threatened to tear the fabric in his palms.

She recalls the time she had access to that muscled expanse.

It was when he had pulled her limb out of a titan’s gaping maw, with his own arm secured around her waist. 

His dark circles, she notices, are more pronounced today.

Steely blue eyes scanned the thinning; ever-thinning squad, until they finally rested on and contested Mikasa’s fixated grey eyes. The stare extends for a second and it is a second too long.

It isn’t something that she does on purpose. 

It isn’t something she would feel embarrassed being caught for.

Nonetheless, Armin grasps her wrist and severs the eye contact.

“Stop it, Mikasa,” Armin chides from her side, without looking up at her. 

His voice is low, not wanting the others to overhear, and also imbued with what Mikasa recognizes to be displeasure ー directed at _her_.

Mikasa's confusion is apparent.

“Thank him”, he implores her, “instead of staring daggers at him."

The blonde boy runs his hand up her left arm, and sighs. The blues in his eyes soften. "Could’ve lost this arm... I’m glad you’re still here with me today.”

She smiled. It didn’t reach the corners of her eyes and he gave her a curt nod.

When Mikasa risks a glance at Levi again, he is gone. 

“Oi, Mikasa” a sardonic voice rebukes, five feet from her, “it’s bad form to stare.” His wet uniform, Mikasa notices with much _curious_ disappointment and shame, is back on his well-honed body.

"My apologies, Captain," she replies through nearly-clenched teeth.

Her anger subsides for a moment as embarrassment at getting caught finally floods in. Mikasa doesn't wait for further reprimands. She trudges across the forest floor to catch up with Armin’s retreating form as Levi barks out orders to regroup at the fort.

 _Thank him, instead of glaring at him._ Armin’s voice ricochets in her mind **.**

She didn't glare at him because of the resurfacing memories of how he had disciplined his subordinates, or one subordinate in particular. 

No, Mikasa Ackerman had never been on the receiving end of the Captain's ideology. Not when she had held her blade under his jaw, not when she gone against orders, and not even when she had ripped his cravat. 

If anything, it was his hand on top of her head, it was his arm around her waist, it was the needle and the silence with which he mended his torn cravat. It was still more gentleness, from one battle-hardened soldier to another, than she knew what to do with.

It was out-of-place like his bloodied self in the middle of the forest, but not _unwanted_ and she found herself _wanting,_ wondering what that well-meaning hand could do to her.

And she didn’t stare at him with hero-worship for a man, who had once again, saved her life.

Something had changed. 

Levi was Levi, but Levi had changed in the eyes of Mikasa Ackerman. 

_III_

Mikasa approached Armin with a request later that day, during a late supper that they had shared in silence.

She had turned to retire for the day but paused at the edge of the bench, dawdling awkwardly.

Every table was empty except their own. Captain Levi had not come to dine with them.

She had murmured the request to the boy, the words softer than the silence of the forest outside, and yet the implication it held broke over the shell of Armin’s disbelieving ears.

He had spluttered on his bland pea-soup.

“Alrigh-”, Armin replied between violent coughs, and the thuds of Mikasa slapping his back, “Okay, I’m glad you listened to me, but _now_?” 

His eyes tore away from the unappetizing soggy green in his bowl, to the tall, arched windows, beyond which purple-red seeped into the sky, a port-wine stain over blue cloth.

Mikasa brought down her face to occlude Armin’s field of vision, the stubborn ‘now’ already forming on her lips. 

“The Captain doesn’t sleep much through the night."

_IV_

In spite of it being early in spring-time, when the toss of icy winds slapped their thin garments about, the saner part of Armin’s brain reminded him of what agreeing to his best friend’s request entailed.

All that time devoted to memorizing stratagems and running his fingers over the spines of thick manuscripts, and he never thought his military duties would extend to _this ー_ strolling in the wilderness, with nothing but the light of his candle and the better half of Humanity’s Strongest to guide him. 

At the ten minute mark of their walk, Armin spots what he can only chalk up to being animal droppings in the dark of the forest, too large to be that of doe-eyed deer, and swallows dryly in an attempt to stem his trepidation. 

“Mikasa, when I asked you to thank him, this”ー Armin kicks away at a bramble threatening to trip him “..this isn’t what I really had in mind.” He trips anyway.

“What do you mean?” 

Mikasa swipes at the foliage with the business end of her blade, leaves crunching beneath her boots and low-lying branches snagging at her skirt.

“During the night, jasmine flowers open, releasing their fragrance- and that’s when tea scenting takes place.”

She recalls a half-forgotten, half-preserved memory. 

Her father would pull faces at the bitter tea, would let Mikasa have a sip of it too, and she liked that concoction.

Her mother would swear it took the stress of her day away, both the acts of making it and taking it before bed.

“That’s how my mother did it, and that’s how I remember it.”

Armin realized the two had been together, for as long as he can recall, through the worst and best of their lives, through hunger that could not be quenched by the scraps in refugee camps and with warm sand between their toes, and yet he hadn’t known the Mikasa before she had lost her first set of parents.

“Yes, actually, but I was thinking along the lines of a more...uh, verbally expressed thank you,” he manages and how awfully had he managed it.

She almost looks offended, thought Armin. Mikasa had taken a few steps backwards to align herself with Armin, the harsh orange flames of her lantern illuminating an earnest, almost-hurt face. 

“A thank you is a thank you,” she stated plainly, voice softer than the calls of nocturnal insects that had replaced the loud cicada cries of that morning.

Mikasa then glanced away sheepishly, rubbing her blade clean against her only cardigan and recalling the Captain's exhausted form. “It’s the least I could do for him.”

Armin paused in his steps and his thoughts.

It dawned on him then, slowly, that maybe this was Mikasa’s way of saying thank you _and_ sorry _and_ perhaps more than just that. 

Mikasa didn't really need Armin's special set of skills in gathering shrubs.

She was strong ー _extremely strong, stronger than all of you_ ー strong in all matters except those concerning the heart.

She doesn’t flinch when his free hand finds hers. A small smile curled at the edge of his lips.

“I understand,” he says, “but you owe me.” 

She considers this.

“What do you understand?” Her eyes narrow with curiosity, more taken by the former than the latter part of his statement.

He tries not to look too amused.

“That this is the perfect time to pick jasmines for the Captain’s tea and I am positive I saw a bush over that way.”

_V_

Armin scooped his shrub cuttings into his handsー mainly jasmine and one decidedly not jasmine but Mikasa doesn't have the heart to tell himー and followed Mikasa back to the barracks.

It had taken 30 minutes to procure the ingredients, which is 15 minutes too long ー 15 to actually acquire the fragrant flowers and 15 to pull Armin's leg out of a ditch in the dark.

It takes 5 more minutes to brew black tea quietly, in the dim and the cold of their kitchen.

Mikasa spends those 5 minutes looking fondly at the Captain's personal stash of sachets, a courtesy of the Reeve's company.

Only Armin notices over the rim of the steaming pot, the image distorted like a mirage, but refrains from commenting on it.

She pours the black liquid into the Captain's cup and sets it upon the tray with finality, happy with her results.

Mikasa half-decides on placing the tray at the foot of the Captain's heavy door, knocking and making a run for it.

But Armin wordlessly pours another cup and sets it next to the Captain's fine porcelain, clasps Mikasa on the back, and sends her on her way.

_VI_

She knocks twice on the ornate oak. Levi grunts in response.

The door feels heavier than anything she has handled before.

When she peeks into his quarters, she finds his form draped over a wooden chair, cravat loosened, well-worn book in hand.

"Did you hit your head on the way to the kitchen?" is the second thing he says to her that day, or the first, since the clock showed midnight a while ago.

"No, I made tea and I thought you could use some too, Captain." Mikasa tells him with forced boredom.

Levi flicks an eyebrow upwards in mild surprise and doesn't give her the satisfaction of a verbal response.

Thin-lipped, she begins to think she is unwanted in his presence, the tea-set grows heavier in her arms. But then she watches him fold inwards the page of the book he was reading, setting it upon an impressive pile.

The hard rapping of knuckles against the wood of his door had caused him to stir. He hadn’t expected a visitor this night. 

He catches a waft of flowers that follow Mikasa as her unearthly form glides in from the dimly-lit hallways into the soft lighting of the quarters. She's never been one to wait for her squad captain’s permission anyway.

Setting the tray down soundlessly on his desk, she takes her place beside it.

Levi makes a mental note of one, two cups.

She lifts her gaze long enough to see Levi take the first sip of his tea. Though she’s almost confident he doesn’t even like the taste of it, he studies his cup.

Eventually, he turns to her. “...Not bad.”

It was enough to smother the nervousness that swelled up in her chest, and gave way to inquisitiveness.

“And?” She beckons.

“And nothing else. **”** An imperceptible shrug.

“Alright,” Mikasa says, almost to herself, noting his lack of additional commentary.

She moves to take the tray away from his desk, but Levi’s hand snakes itself around her wrist, warm unlike the cold of his quarters.

“ _Alright_ what?” Curt, but not unkind.

“The tea is not to your liking.” Her shoulders droop like a wilting flower, and something inside Levi's chest twinges at the sight of it. 

He takes a long, purposefully drawn-out sip, unflinching when the scalding tea goes down his throat, his eyes never leaving Mikasa’s scrunched up face.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t _say_ anything, at all,” she deadpans.

“You care for what I have to say?” he asks, in half mock-amusement. His thumb smoothed across her inner wrist, once. She could feel the raised scar on it, through her heated skin.

For the first time, she allows herself to admit, that she cares about Levi's thoughts.

“Yes, I do.” 

A slight flush creeped up the nape of her neck.

Levi hides his smile in the next sip of tea, inhaling the fragrance he can’t name, and takes his hand back. 

An exhale, and then, “It’s the best damned thing I’ve had all day,” he answers in half-truths, the best damned thing he’s had since they left the safety off the walls, if he wanted to be honest. 

“That’s not saying much. You didn’t have dinner today, pea-soup and stale bread,” she tells him matter-of-factly. “You didn’t miss anything.”

When Levi looks up to Mikasa, the ghost of a teasing smile warns her that he doesn't plan on discussing the menu.

Levi takes her lingering stare as invitation to look at her— tries to count her lashes above her grey eyes, the pout on her pale lips, the tensed fidget of her hands. 

And, like always, Mikasa was battle-hardened and so, so irreconcilably _beautiful._

 _Must be the tea,_ Levi tells himself jokingly, taken aback by his late-night musings.

Mikasa is wondering why they have both lowered their voices, when it's just the two of them, when he quietly adds, "Fair enough."

When he takes another sip, and sighs contently, her full lips curve into an unrestrained smile. 

Levi had always admired her strength and brutal efficacy as she soared through the air in pursuit of titans, but now he realizes belatedly that he finds this awkwardness of hers, which would be entirely useless on the battle-field, endearing too. 

Seemingly surprised by his own thoughts once more, Levi quickly averts his gaze down to the bottom of his cup where bits of debris like floaters had settled.

Mikasa’s heart felt something soft and happy and sweet in that moment; yet the tension in her folded arms would not let her reach for her cooling cup of tea and her feet would not close the distance between them.

She assumes the transition into their usual companionable silence will in turn silence the hammering in her chest, but there is a disconcerting manner in which Levi takes his next sip **.**

A flurry of thoughts raced through the Captain’s mind: why is she just standing there, looking so stiff, and not dri - _what the hell's in this thing_.

Mikasa’s nervousness, her smile every time he lifted the cup to his lips, the untouched second cup, did not go unnoticed by him (as most things concerning a certain cadet were not overlooked by a certain Captain.)

And _Sina_ , why was she all but glowing tonight ?

_Must be the tea._

He was the first to break the agreeable preamble, his half-smile already splintering at the edges.

An inscrutable expression crossed the Captain’s face before he schooled it again. After wiping his mouth with a non-descript handkerchief, he set down the jasmine-scented, freshly brewed drink neatly on his desk.

“What did you do?” Levi questioned, his voice strained.

He was staring deep into the murky brown depths of his suspicious cup of porcelain.

“What.” When Mikasa glanced down at him, she could see the humour in his face snuffed out. In its place there lay something akin to horror.

“What did you put in the tea?”

Mikasa snorted back a laugh, dumbfounded. She broke her stance, letting her arms fall to her side.

Levi glanced up at her, and in his steely blue eyes, she saw the reflection of her own unrest.

“Excuse me, Sir? Are you implying I might have put something in your tea?”

Underneath the mild surprise, she soaked up the amusement from his reaction.

“Well, did you? Bringing me tea at these ungodly hours — this is very much unlike you.”

And yet, Levi’s further accusations only pissed her off more.

“And you’re supposed to be a self-proclaimed expert on all matters concerning me, Sir?”

An answer came as the screech of the half-empty cup against the surface of his wooden desk, as Levi pushed it as far away from his reach as possible.

Embarrassment curled inside her —did this idiot even realize what painstaking lengths she went through to dig jasmine out of the uncharted wilderness beyond the walls for his damned tea.

There was something caught in her throat — mean, very mean and desperate to get out, to get a rise out of this man. A childish response, perhaps, but her pride was nagging at her and it agreed to pipe down if she would say the next few words.

Stormy grey eyes narrowed behind a dark fringe in anticipation.

She should have made an about-turn then and there; should have left through the same heavy doors she came in through.

“I spit in it.”

**Author's Note:**

> snk 138, am I right? I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry reading it.
> 
> Also, a few days after I posted an excerpt from this fic on tumblr, I came across an artwork of one of the scenes. I wasn't credited, so uhhh it might have been a coincidence, but I did feel awkward. I wouldn't want them thinking I wrote this fic based on their artwork without crediting them 😅
> 
> It should have been easy to write the whole thing, instead of breaking it up into 2 parts but I'm still caught up in my exams 😒
> 
> Part 2 soon! AND I PROMISE YOU, IT SHALL BE STEAMY.


End file.
